


Time to Go

by bonneaux



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:17:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonneaux/pseuds/bonneaux
Summary: The scenes in between going to see Charlie Chaplin and getting it on on that chaise lounge while PJ Harvey sings.





	

In the car on the way home they are silent. They have been silent, in fact, from the moment Grace emerged from the bathroom, scanning the room for Tommy. He was at the bar, his back to her, head bent as he listened to Wag Macdonald tell a story. The men turned away from the bar and she could see he was smiling and nodding. She stood at the edge of the room watching him, not sure what to do. It was 10:00. 

 

When he turned from the bar, half listening to Wag’s story, his eyes scanned the room. There is no need to rush when you have made a plan was a motto of his. However, this plan had too much emotion in it, too many variables, too much out of his control. He didn’t trust himself. It was 10:00. It was time to go. 

 

She met his eyes as he looked up and she couldn’t help the small smile from crossing her lips. He smiled back, a small nod, said something to Wag and they shook hands. He crossed the room to her and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Time to go, eh?” he said in a low voice. Her mouth was dry. She could only nod. 

 

He put his hand gently on her bare back, his fingers barely skimming her skin. His eyes traveled down her body and back up. He felt both loose and on alert. No woman had this effect on him, especially fully clothed in a public place. He shut down all of his thinking and concentrated on getting them out the door, in the car, without giving up his hand, showing her his nerves. What if she asked to be dropped at her house? What if she really did love her husband now and had no use for him and his complications? He shut these thoughts off as he opened her door and helped her in the car. 

 

She stepped up and sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. She could not make herself speak, no small talk, no reporting what she and Charlie Chaplin talked about, none of the questions she was hoping to ask. She stared straight ahead until he started driving and then she let herself look at his hands on the steering wheel. She loved his hands. She thought about them. The flush came back to her neck and she looked down into her lap. He said, I used to but not anymore, she thought. Used to. Not anymore. 

 

They parked in front of his house and he came around again to let her out of the car. Wordlessly, she took his arm and they walked to the front door. He unlocked and let her in first. She walked back into the room where they had had their whiskey and conversation earlier. The fire was still going. She took off her gloves and purse and laid them on the table. He was still behind her, hanging his coat, taking off his suit jacket. She walked around the couch to stand in front of the fire. Is there a fire burning upstairs? she wondered. She was quivering from the anticipation, her toes flexing and relaxing, her arms tightening and then hanging limp. She could smell him in this room and parts of her brain were aching for him. She shook her head a little and thought of Clive, like touching a bruise. She closed her eyes and exhaled. 

 

He came up behind her, close, she could feel his breath on her neck. He put his warm hand on her back again and that was it. She turned to him, put her hands on the back of his head and kissed him. The kiss broke her silence. All of her thoughts and worries spilled out. Do you have someone, Tommy? It’s too late, Tommy. 

 

Too late? He thought. We have an hour, at least. At least an hour, he thought. We have time. I made sure we would have time. 

 

As they kissed his hands went to the back of her dress.As he slowly unzipped her she had to lower her arms to get them out of the sleeves. Her dress hung at her waist now, and she was bare underneath but he was still buttoned up to the collar, tie still tight at his neck. Her hands went to his cheek, the back of his head, his shoulders. He walked her back to the chaise lounge, his hands on her hips and she let him lay her back. She shimmied out of her dress as she looked up at him. He took of his tie, unbuttoned his vest, then shirt, his head down so she could not see his eyes, his hands moving quickly, a slight shake as he worked down the buttons. She sat up and her hands went to his pants, unzipping him as she looked up into his face with that small smile of hers. 

 

He sat on the chaise lounge and took off his shoes and socks as she kicked off her heels and let them fall to the floor. He sat still for a minute, in his boxers, looking at the floor. She nudged him with her big toe and he turned his head to look at her, spread on her back, naked now. Their eyes met, and he felt the deep bell of recognition resonate inside him and he moved to her. Tommy had, since the age of 14, always had an easy time finding willing women, he could always find a fuck. But this was different. Grace held his face in his hands as he moved inside her. First he used his hands as he watched her face, watched her unravel until she tightened around him and then softened. Then he entered her, holding back, using all of his will, slowly slowly. She clutched his shoulders, pulled the hair on the top of his head, licked her lips and looked right into his eyes. Right into his eyes. No other woman could hold his face and stare at him as he lost control, closed his eyes and lost himself inside of her. 

 

After, as he lay on top of her, her legs still hitched at the ankles around him, both of them breathing breathing together, the silence came back. Neither of them spoke as she shifted beneath him, unhooked her ankles as her hands still traced the muscles on her back. He kept his face buried in her neck, slowly dragging his lips up and down her neck until she shifted again and he cleared his throat and lifted himself off of her. He sat up again as she folded herself up, patted her hair and leaned over to find her clothes. It was almost midnight. Time to go.


End file.
